Chapter Fifteen
The next morning as I drove past the protestors, Nora waved at me to stop and when I slowed down, she leaned into my window. ‘Come and say hello to Christy.’
‘Christy Power?’ I said. ‘Red’s dad Christy?’
She nodded. ‘The very one. He’s writing a poem, or a collection of poems. He’s just read one out to us. “Nora’s Last Stand”. I told him there was no way it was going to be, buthe said it flowed better this way.’
I parked the car and walked over to them. Christy was sitting on Nellie’s flowery picnic chair, with his notebook, sucking on an old chewed pencil ruminatively.
‘Well, young Tabitha,’ he said, and began to try and get up.
‘Hello Christy,’ I said, easing him back down. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I meant to come down weeks ago, swell the numbers a bit, butmy legs haven’t been so good.’
‘There are new people here every day,’ I said. ‘It’s turning into a day care for the retired.’
‘You see, Tabitha,’ he said. ‘You never lose your passion. Eyesight, ability to sprint 100 metres, to cook a soufflé, but you never lose your principles.’
‘Since when did you cook a soufflé, Christy?’ said Nellie. ‘I don’t think it was on soufflés you were reared.’
‘Bacon and cabbage,’ he said, giving her a wink. ‘Like we all were. But I wouldn’t mind a soufflé. Just to see if they are as nice as they sound…’
He was right, I thought, as I listened along. They had created something, my mother and her pals, they had created a sense of community, a cause, a reason to be, out of passion and commitment. They had created a space for people to come down, have achat, pass the time of day, hold placards and feel part of something greater than they were.
‘So, you’re never going to sell the land, are ye?’ said Christy. ‘It’s a bit hare-brained, wouldn’t you say. Have these fine people not convinced you yet? You are going to tell the developers where to go, aren’t you?’ He was smiling at me but Christy meant business. They all did. These were not pensionerswho gave up. Christy had survived the death of his wife, bringing up a son on his own. He’d left school at fourteen and had worked his way up in the council to a nice, desk job.Andhe wrote poetry.
‘I don’t know,’ I admitted. ‘It’s kind of hard to make a decision when you have protestors clouding your thoughts.
‘I know you’ll do the right thing,’ he said. ‘Whatever the outcome. You’ve got agood heart, you have.’
‘Tea, Christy?’ said Robbo. ‘Nice and hot?’
‘Thank you, lad,’ said Christy. ‘I was just saying to your mother, how nice it was that you and Red were… you know, friendly again.’
Nora just gave me a shrug and a weird smile, as if she hadn’t contributed to this particular part of the conversation.
‘I’d better go,’ I said. ‘Are you here for the day, Christy?’
‘I think so.If Robbo over there keeps the tea coming.’ He gave Robbo a wink.
‘The more the merrier,’ said Nora. ‘We need all the reinforcements we can get. Now, Tabitha, at this board meeting tonight, you’re to tell this Brian Crowley, that you won’t be selling.’
‘But, Mum, it’s not that simple,’ I said, crossly. I admired the protestors and couldn’t help but be impressed by the community they had created,a mini movement. It may not be of the magnitude of the Sheep’s Head Peace Camp but it was significant. But it still didn’t take away from the fact that our school needed money.
‘Well, whatever you decide,’ said Christy, ‘we all know your heart is in the right place. Decisions can be difficult.’
I flashed him a grateful smile, touched by his kindness.
‘They don’t have to be,’ said Nora. ‘Thisdecision is wrong. Pure and simple.’
‘Let me just write that down,’ said Christy. ‘It’ll be good for the poem.’
*
Nora had been right, I thought. I didn’t have fun anymore. The last time I had gone out was to Celia’s soiree and that didn’t count. But at Clodagh’s party, there surely was an opportunity for fun and to prove to my mother that I too could have a laugh. Drinking, music… and Red.He didn’t make me feel fun. Just awkward.
And then there was the not insignificant issue of what I was actually going to put on. I mean, what did people wear to parties these days? At Celia’s, everyone was in various shades of taupe. But to a cool, media party?
